


For Love - A Destiel One Shot

by fangirlKCK



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x18 coda, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel/Dean Winchester One Shot, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Is Real, Destiel is canon, Grief/Mourning, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot, Spoilers, i just needed to get this out of my head, s15 ep 18 dispair, what should happen after Castiel died in season 15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27473731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlKCK/pseuds/fangirlKCK
Summary: ~ What should happen after Castiel confessed his love to Dean and died in season 15 ~“But he died thinking I wouldn't love him back.” Dean rubs his neck with both hands, trying to breathe through the avalanche of feelings inside of him. Self-loathing. Guilt. And love. The love he can't give Castiel anymore, because he missed his chance.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester
Kudos: 25





	For Love - A Destiel One Shot

**Author's Note:**

> Destiel is canon.
> 
> Here's a one shot that's inspired by a dream I had. Please tell me what you think of it :)
> 
> ~ KC

It's too quiet. There's nothing to distract Dean from the echoes of his own sobs in his head.

His grip around the bottle of beer tightens. Sam is sitting across from him, staring blankly at the table. They're sitting in the library in the bunker, and wherever Dean is looking, something is missing. From their home, from their lives.

From his heart.

Once again, he runs his fingers through his hair. _I always wondered ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be. What my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer because the one thing I want is something I know I can't have._ Abruptly, Dean gets up.

“Dean?” Sam finally looks at him, an all too familiar sorrow in his eyes.

Dean doesn't answer, turning his back to the table, to the bottle of beer, and even to his little brother. He wants to run, but the one he wants to run to is out of reach.

“Dean, I know it's hard. But we have to...,” Sam starts, but he trails off when Dean slowly turns around.

“We have to—what? Just move on?”

“What else are we supposed to do?” Sam asks. “Don't you think they would have wanted us to keep going? Because I do think that Eileen and Castiel...”

“Don't,” Dean interrupts his brother, closing his eyes. “Don't do this, Sammy.”

“Dean, I just lost Eileen. Again.” Sam shakes his head, devastated. He wants to continue, but Dean doesn't let him.

“And I lost Cas,” Dean says weakly. “Again.”

“It's different, but...” Sam tries to find the right words, but Dean explodes.

“Yeah, it was different! _You were able to tell her that you love her."_

As the meaning of Dean's words dawns on Sam, he realizes that there are no right words to tell his big brother.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Sam wonders.

“You mean, sooner? When I still had the chance? I thought I _didn't_ have a chance. I thought what we had was as good as it will ever get.” Dean scoffs. “To think about it now that I was an idiot most of the time.”

“You apologized, Dean. Cas didn't die, thinking you hate him.”

“But he died thinking I wouldn't love him back.” Dean rubs his neck with both hands, trying to breathe through the avalanche of feelings inside of him. Self-loathing. Guilt. And love. The love he can't give Castiel anymore, because he missed his chance.

“And I wanted...” Dean's voice breaks. “I _wanted_ to tell him. I wanted to say that I love him too, but then he said _goodbye, Dean,_ and shoved me out of the way.”

“Do you want to tell me?” Sam asks quietly. “Or to write it all down? Everything you always wanted to say to him.”

“No, Sam.” Dean shakes his head. Lost. “I want to tell _him._ I want him.”

Even though Dean has no intention of writing anything down, the words pile up in his mind nevertheless.

_I love you, too. Of course, I love you, too. And I'm sorry. For all the times I left. For all the times you had to think I didn't want you. I do. I do, Cas. The one thing you want, the one thing you think you know you can't have? You had it all along. Maybe not from the very beginning, because you know—and now I know that you do—who I am. But I fell for you as well. And you had me, you could've had me. I'm yours._

“I want him back.”

The words slip out of his mouth, and a knowing look appears on Sam's face. The same longing for a chance, the _last_ chance they have to take because if they do it right, it'll be the only chance that will ever matter.

Dean is trying so hard to hold it together, but he's shaking, and a few tears escape his eyes, after all.

Sam stands and walks around the table to him. “Then we'll get him back.”

“How?” Dean asks.

“I don't know. But we have to try it, at least. _You_ have to try it, at least, Dean. You owe him that.”

Dean knows Sam is right, and he nods. Though, he doesn't ask Sam where he's supposed to find the faith that this mission will be successful. He goes to his room, once more not haunted by ghosts but rather by memories.

_I'm not leaving here without you._

_I need you._

_Sorry, but I'd rather have you, cursed or not._

_And I forgive you. Of course, I forgive you._

And he thinks that he's told Cas he loves him, too. But not in the way he should have.

Dean gently closes the door behind him, deep in thought. _Why didn't I tell him? Why didn't I say those three words to him so that he knows?_ A hundred missed opportunities cross his mind in the worst way.

 _I want him back. I_ need _him back. He needs to hear me say that I love him, that he's loved, and that he deserves happiness. And if it's enough for him to love me, if that's what brings him happiness, then I'm going to make him the happiest he ever was and ever will be._

His duffel bag is next to the nightstand in the corner of the room. Almost hesitantly, he puts it on the bed. Dean takes a deep breath, steadying himself. _Then we'll get him back._

Carefully, he puts knife after knife, gun after gun, and other hopefully useful tools and weapons into the bag. With each item, his heart calms a little more down. _I'll find you, and you'll look at me, and we will meet in the middle, and then we will be where we belong. We'll be at home._

“Home,” Dean whispers, grabbing the straps of the bag.

_You think that hate and anger, that's... that's what drives you, that's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are._

For love.

He's going to get Castiel back. He's going _to raise Cas from perdition_. And if he had to smash the entire universe to pieces, to have and to be with Castiel, then that's what Dean is going to do—for love.

With new-found strength, he leaves his room and finds Sam still in the library. His brother is standing next to one of the shelves, looking at him questioningly. Sam sees the change in Dean's eyes before he notices the duffel bag in his hands.

“So, what are we going to do?”

Dean does something he didn't think he'd still be capable of doing. He smiles.

“We're going to save my angel.”


End file.
